


Under the Wire Rims

by daalny



Category: seaQuest
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daalny/pseuds/daalny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Opposites attract</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An alternate look after the events of Dead End

I love how people consider me an idiot. There are some advantages to it, I’m not hit up for advice which is a blessing. I can’t stand it when people yammer on about problems and when I give them an advice on how to actually solve the problem they reject it. With my personality and my physical appearance it’s easier just to brush them off. I slipped up when I met Ford, he was reading that book and I let loose the ending. Now that I think back on it it was actually to lash out. But I honestly thought he had figured out the ending in the beginning like I had done. Sometimes I believe wholeheartedly that I am an idiot and that if I of all people can figure something out then it must be common knowledge. I play the part more so around one man because I have an inkling that he is the same as me.

It begins slowly I’m a security officer which means I keep my eyes and my ears open. I listen to gossip as well as news from the vid-links. I pulled his file a few weeks after I was assigned here. The man has an impressive resume, university trained and a few commendations from the the UEO. The photos provided me a nice addition to my research. I must say the more militarized uniforms of the khaki pants and shirt coupled with the black tie seemed to compliment him more than the non-descript jumpsuits. Seeing these photo’s reminds me that he is a soldier. A soldier that has been with this ship since the beginning, since Stark. I had read up on her when she had assumed command of the SeaQuest. I memorized the schematics--I love to read.

Apparently so does he, I stopped by his quarters once asking for directions once again playing the idiot. A quick glance was all I could glimpse books stacked neatly on a shelf along with data discs and pads. He looked quickly over his shoulder to make sure that I was addressing someone else in his own quarters. After he was certain I was speaking only to him he told me where I needed to go. 

Slowly, very slowly I am accepted into the ranks of this ship. Being UEO helps a little, we all wear the same uniform. Except for the Doctor and Lucas but even those two are generous with their friendship. I get my own spot at the poker table and people learn not to call me James. I don’t know why I have this attraction to him but I am attracted. I didn’t really put it together until he went on that date with Lonnie which ended in disaster. From then on I try to include him in poker games and other things but he shies away from them with excuses some of which are very good. For a week it was just blind luck that he appeared where I was. I was in the gym working out some frustration when he quietly appeared and claimed a treadmill in the corner. Two other crewmembers came in, one came to the free weights where I was and the other went toward the treadmill but quickly turned away to join his colleague. A whispered, “Saint Timothy” was all the answer given. 

I came to learn that many referred to him as Saint Timothy. I don’t know if I ever truly believed in a god. After my mom got sick and was taken from me I had the certain feeling that I myself was all I could count on. One Sunday morning I found the wardroom locked, there were no meetings scheduled for that day. On instinct my hand went to my hip for my side arm. Captain Bridger rounded the corner and rapidly approached me and told me that all was well.

“Captain? Was there a last minute meeting?”

“No, Brody. It’s Sunday...mass.”

My face must have registered my confusion. Bridger ploughed on, “I let Lt. O’Neill use the vid-link in the wardroom on Sunday morning’s when he’s off duty. Communicates with Father Baker. Locked door means he’s in confession.”

“oh” is all I can muster.

Bridger moves on and I move back from the door. I stand under an aquatube for a few minutes before the door to the wardroom opens and he appears. He moves towards the maglev, I see him shove something into his pocket before he boards. 

In the following weeks, we spend sometime together. I dared to claim the treadmill next to him in the gym and we ran in silence. Sometimes we would talk about random things. Books we had read or wanted to read, sports, I learned he has a wicked sense of humor. Other times we would just run not speaking but we had an odd sense of companionship in those runs. During bridge shifts I would find myself gravitating towards his station.

We have slowly become friends, we spend more time together on shore leaves and we frequently borrow books from one another. I did make the mistake of borrowing a Victor Hugo novel which was in french. I notice that he seems to be a bit more comfortable with me and that gives me hope. 

I had hoped to get to know him better on our upcoming mission but Murphy and his law came to visit. Sucked into a wormhole, an actual goddamn wormhole with goddamned worms. He was the one to sense it. 

_“Hey, do you guys hear that?” “Is it the radio?” I ask His hands rub up and down the sides of his thighs before stopping, “No. No, it's not on the radio. I can feel it. It's something low pitched.” Rawlings and Lucas begin arguing about water when we all felt it and then Frank Herbert’s vision came to life as a giant worm appeared._

I’m brought back to the present when we figure out that shuttle is worthless, the oxygen generator is toast and there are only four seats for the pod and there are five of us. I have to bite my tongue from laughing at the image of musical chairs. Especially with Tim hobbling around. I’m sure that the others have just come to the same conclusion I have albeit without the funny images. Others begin voicing their thoughts and I let them. This situation has everyone frazzled and I need to let them know I will listen to each one of them. Unfortunately it dissolves into a shouting match. Lucas is using his academic persona to hide behind, using cool logic and math he states the facts. O’Neill is the only one to give voice to what we are all thinking, “So who stays?!” Lucas doesn’t seem to have anticipated that question so soon, he dodges it by suggesting we all work on the pod and decide later. I myself find that a really bad idea, I don’t want to be leaning over equipment fiddling with circuitry to wind up with a screwdriver between my ribs. “No, no. We can't work on rebuilding the pod with that hanging over our heads. We've got to decide that now.” Henderson with her admirable but naive view of loyalty spouts all for one and one for all. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Lucas shouts about math. I’m getting riled up because we are wasting time. I make a remark about Rawlings and instantly the others speak up. I’m not stupid I know maritime law it was just my feeble attempt to prevent what I know is coming. I inhale deeply and after a few heartbeats it happens.

“So there's only one thing left to do. We have to ask for a volunteer.” He removes his glasses and instead of making him look weak and vulnerable he looks strong. “And, no offense intended, but besides the fact that I'm injured I also happen to believe in an afterlife. With more faith, I think, than any of you. So I think it should be me.”

This is not happening my mind screams he’s ready to die in this hellhole, I won’t let that happen. If it’s going to be someone it’ll be me. “No, no. Tim, we're not gonna take advantage of your faith. If we need a volunteer, then I'm the senior guy.”

Lucas ends it all with the notion of the lottery and we get to work. We’re in the same area working. O’Neill is behind me I know he is frustrated with his piece of equipment. The beams of light from his flashlight strike over my shoulder and then the wall beside me. I can surmise that he is trying to find another hand besides the two he has to hold the light. I’m about to go over and offer to hold the flashlight when Lucas comes in. This kid maybe a genius but he has no control over his emotions. I can read him like a book, I tell him that he better take advantage of what little time he has to say what he should. I know he won’t as he stomps off out of the cave Tim hands him the box he was working on.

When he is out of sight I hear Tim’s voice, “Do you think he’ll do it?”

I scoff, “you mean someone actually do what I tell them without it having to be an order? Forget it no one listens to me.”

“you’re very insightful” he says softly

In that moment I want to kiss him to show him just how insightful I can be but I don’t while I should practice what I preach I’m not going to jump all over an injured man I merely say, “Don’t let that get out.”

When the actual lottery began I felt a knot deep in my chest. I reach and grab a wire when I find out it is a long wire the knot in my chest doesn’t loosen. He goes next and when his fingers brush against mine to compare wires I feel warm and when I realize our wires are the same length that knot loosens a bit. We will be on the pod together. Lucas drew the short wire...it’s bullshit.

I don’t pray but I do think that if there is a god then there must be a better way than this. Rawlings locks himself in the shuttle and we four pile into the pod. The water soon lifts us up and we are riding along. I try to breathe shallowly, trying to conserve what little there is in this tank. Beside me Lucas and Lonnie are shouting, at this rate they’ll be out of oxygen quickly. I yell myself when I see Tim slumped over. I see his guage is in the red, I voice my thoughts. “His airs run out!” I rip of my mask and push his head back and place the mask over his face. He coughs and tries to bat my hand away. I use my command voice, “Breathe this, take it in! Breathe it!” I meant what I said about being the senior officer about sacrificing myself. My subordinates come first. _He_ comes first. At my thought his eyes crack open a bit wider and bore into mine. I don’t have time to think about since I am coughing myself. Lucas gives me his air and I find my head getting foggy.

A loud clang lets me know that we are in the midst of rescue. We are hauled up and medics rush us. I find myself being supported by Lonnie. Piccolo rushes past me and along with a medic pull Tim out of the dive pod. A non-rebreather mask has been placed over his face and it seems his glasses survived. Medbay is our destination and we go willingly. All of us are put on gurney’s. Lonnie and I are allowed to sit up on ours as a nasal cannula is quickly placed. Usually I’m climbing the walls to get out of medbay but I sit still. Tim reappears from another area of which I bet 50 credits that is where the scanner is kept. Tim is lying on his gurney with the oxygen mask still on his face. He also has an IV placed. Wendy has put on her white coat and points towards a cabinet. Another medic goes over and retrieves some items. Wendy comes over to me and adjusts the flow on my oxygen. “how is he doc?”

“Well the Lieutenant has some fractures and some bone deep bruising. I guessing he was thrown around the shuttles walls before it crashed. We’re going put him a fracture boot to keep everything stable make sure he is comfortable and then he can go to his quarters. As for yo and the Ensign here you’re stats are normal and you are free to go.”

I want to stay but I hear the unspoken command in her voice. Lonnie and I get up and go to our respective rooms. In the morning we are all there to see Rawlings off. Tim is in a wheelchair keeping his leg elevated. After the launch disembarks we trickle out of the launch bay. I grab Tim’s crutches since the deckplating of the ship isn’t very kind to wheelchairs.

It surprises me that he comes to one of the poker games but then again while the fracture boot came off a week ago he’s still under orders not to run. It surprises me even more when he cleans up. He rakes in the credits the look on Piccolos face was worth me losing a small fortune in credits. As the game wraps up we leave Piccolo’s quarters and move out. Tim loses a credit and I bend down to pick it up. As I hand it to him I smile, “will you becoming back next week so I can win that back?” 

He smirks wickedly, “maybe”

I laugh loudly, “The way you raked in the dough it was like you could read minds!”

His face hardens for millisecond but my time in security has allowed me to catch it I also know in my gut that I’m right. His face is back to it’s regular mask but behind his glasses his eyes hold a tinge of panic.

“Hey, you can talk to me. I think you should _know_ that.” I turn to leave so he can be alone.

“Jim, wait!” His voice stops me and go to him. He opens his mouth as if to begin but he stops and closes his eyes. I touch his shoulder and guide him to his quarters. I take his desk chair while he situates himself on the bed. “I don’t know where to start” he murmurs.

“Anywhere is good start” I say encouragingly.

He exhales in a sort of chuckle before beginning. I hear about the incident with Darwin after the SeaQuest had been given to Bridger. About the psychics that came onboard during the discovery of the library. 

“Does Wendy know?”

“She’s been dropping hints, ‘Meditation can help’” He mimics perfectly.

“Will she do anything?”

“Doubt it, doctor/patient confidentiality. I think Wendy is the last person to make me do anything against my will.”

My brain begins a replay of the ascent from the worms, of my thoughts of him and how he opened his eyes. I’m startled when one of his hands touch mine, “I know.”

I’m amazed I can keep my voice calm, “And.”

“I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Why do think I went to the gym?” he delivers nonchalantly and I inwardly curse myself for being an idiot.

“you’re not an idiot.”

My eyes go wide.

“Relax, I can’t read people that well. I get odd glimpses now and then. Like tonight with cards. Ortiz has a great poker face but all I could hear was ‘I got nothing, I got nothing!’”

I laugh, “Is that why you don’t play cards with us?”

“Didn’t think I was invited to tell the truth. I mean I get the invitation but it just seems hollow.”

“Will you come to the game with me next week?”

“Yes”


	2. New Cape Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attraction acted upon. Brody POV

It’s Friday and there’s a buzz in the air, literally. Here in New Cape Quest they have strung old fashioned lights that emit sound when electricity flows through them. Here in 2020 anything electronically inefficient is banned. However, due to the historic nature of this area the city applied for a permit to have these lights. It’s always a reminder to me that I’m almost to my apartment. I dumped a huge amount of credits into securing an apartment here. It’s stupid actually since I don’t really reside here. For months I was assigned to the GELF colony but it was nice to know that my apartment was mine. During my tour I sublet the apartment in order to recoup some of my losses. 

The crowd here is starting to thicken and a shoulder bumps mine. Instead of being annoyed by it I smile. The shoulder belongs to Tim. He agreed to come ashore with me and we are slowly making our way to the apartment. We’re in civilian clothing yet we still can’t seem to shed the soldier appearance. A police officer nods to us in a silent recognition of what we are. We turn the corner while the crowd continues in its previous direction. The buzzing is also quieted. 

The street seems to open up. I move closer to Tim and point to the opposing corner, “Margaret Mary’s” I state quietly.

Tim’s eyebrow quirks amusingly behind his glasses.

I feign shock, “What? I’m just being a good host. Mass is at 8:30.”

He chuckles and I feel relief. We have planned for this for so long. After the disaster of the dive pod where we finally discovered that we both had this mutual attraction we danced around one another. Too attracted to stay away yet too hesitant to start something on-board ship not due to homophobia, but due to privacy. We want this to be our own. Too many shipboard romances are common knowledge to everyone. While Lonnie isn’t a whore her relationships have become ammo for the crew. 

When he was asked by Piccolo what he would be doing on shore leave Tim replied that he wanted to visit the new language museum near Tampa which earned a snicker. What wasn’t known is that I am going with him, just like he is coming with me to a sporting event. Also we will be staying together at my apartment. Five days, five days to actually get to know each other better. I don’t know if we’ll jump into bed. I sincerely hope that we do but I don’t want to force it. Never before I have worried so much about screwing something up. I think I don’t even care about my career at this point as I do this which is an odd feeling for me.

I fish my card from my pocket and the green light signals our entry. My apartment is on the fortieth floor and the maglev elevator quickly ascends to deliver us. Down the hall, turn the corner and we’re there. The door opens and we bustle inside. I turn on the lights with a command while Tim shucks off his backpack before moving to the kitchen to put down a shopping bag. He then flexes his hand to return the blood flow to it. Slowly he begins unpacking the groceries.

He’s smart, I didn’t think about what we would eat. I was too consumed with us actually getting here. I hear drawers opening and closing until I hear I muted and short hiss before the telltale tinkle of metal hitting the counter top. I don’t need to be in the kitchen to know he’s found the bottle opener and has cracked open a beer. I hear another tinkle...make that two.

“Here Jim.” He says to me softly before handing me a bottle. I take the bottle gratefully and watch as he takes a measured swig. I do the same only so I won’t be surprised by the taste in his mouth--I want to kiss him. I take his bottle from him and set it down next to mine before moving into his personal space and kissing him. He responds, his lips active as they repeatedly seek out mine. We kiss for awhile before I break off and mumble something about, “make yourself at home.” He grabs his beer and walks towards the sliding door to the balcony. 

I let him have a few minutes before I walk out onto the balcony myself. He stands there silent just looking out at the bay.

“Penny for them?”

He exhales sharply, “Pennies were discontinued in---I know what you mean.” I watch as he raises his left hand and his thumb and forefinger to maneuver easily under his glasses to simultaneously lift them so his fingers can rub his eyes. He then turns to me, “It’s strange you know? All that time on the boat and sometimes I come to hate the water. Yet, when I’m out of it...I miss it.”

I know exactly what he means.

He turns his gaze back to the horizon and I just stare out with him. While onboard SeaQuest we spent our off-duty hours talking. I asked him about his first communion and he asked me about my childhood. We both learned a lot about each other. It's as if we don't have anything else to ask. I don’t know how long we stay out there but eventually we go back inside. I grab my bag and make for the bedroom. Tim reaches down for his backpack and to my delight follows me. He places his pack down almost reverently on a chair while I haphazardly toss mine into the open closet. Together we get ready for bed. Part of me thought that he would be dressed in flannel pajamas. I’m pleasantly surprised that he wears only a pair of boxers and his glasses. I too am dressed the same, well except for the glasses. 

I can’t stifle a groan as I stretch out in bed. While I’m a UEO soldier used to bunks and I must say I get weak at the thought of my queen sized mattress. I turn off the lights with another command and I wait for my eyes to adjust. While I’m waiting for the green and pink dots to disappear I hear the sheets move and see Tim sit up. At first I panic until I hear metal connect with the bedside table, he’s putting away his glasses. My panic melts away entirely when he rolls towards me and kisses me. Now we’re in new territory.

His fingers rake through my short hair while my own find purchase around his shoulders pulling him toward me. His chest meets mine and my head spins. If I were a poet I would wax on about the agonizing bliss of Tim’s kisses. But I’m just a soldier and all I can think is, “more.”

I must have uttered my last thought aloud for he answers, “yes”

We kick off our boxers and our skin meets fully, my head snaps back at the feeling. My attention is regained when his teeth graze then sink into my shoulder. I get my own back by bringing my hand between us and feeling him completely. I watch as the tendons in his neck flex as gulps down air. It’s hot.

He pulls me against him desperately. My hips push against his as we both rock against each other. Tim is beginning to stiffen and I press down harder and chase after him.

Out of habit I wake up before dawn. Tim wakes soon after, I watch as he squints in vain to see the projected image of the clock on the ceiling. I take pity on him and whisper, “It’s five-ten.”

“Thanks.” 

Without thinking I reach across him my arm brushing his chest. He doesn’t seem to mind in fact I feel a soft kiss on my skin. My fingers snag his glasses from the table. He puts them on one handed with practiced ease. While laser surgery has come leaps and bounds Tim is not a candidate for it, even now in 2020 he still must wear corrective lenses.

I thought that the “morning after” would bring some kind of awkwardness but there isn’t. I want to laugh at the simplicity of it. 

I move to the kitchen and begin grabbing some the items he bought yesterday from the market. My intent was to make us breakfast yet he breezes into the kitchen. I stop him with a simple body block. “Go sit, least I can do is make breakfast after you bought the groceries.”

He smiles wickedly, “No, you bought them. I used the credits from the poker game.”

I grab the bottle caps from the beers from last night and fling them at him.


	3. Chapter 3

The language museum is a testament to the new architecture that is sweeping the planet. It’s a gorgeous building of sleek lines, even inside the technical display screen are tucked away. A group is gathering for a tour and we join the group. Headsets are being handed out. The style is the same as the ones we use on SeaQuest. I place them on my head and swing the mic down. We begin moving and the docent begins talking--in German. The headset begins its translation. I turn to look at Tim. His headset is around his neck, no translator needed for him. I’m actually listening to the foundation of language. I knew about the similarities of the Latin roots but the history of written language is actually not as boring as I thought. 

A piece of pottery is passed around the group and another docent appears, this time a woman. When she begins speaking Tim cocks his head before a small smile graces his lips. The woman signals to him that his headset is off. He then says something to woman. The headset allows me to hear what he said, “I understand Lingala.”

I remind myself to remember the name. The tour then resumes.

Two and half hours later we are eating lunch at a small outdoor cafe. We managed to get one of the last tables with an umbrella. I order a steak plate while he eats a portobello mushroom plate I then realize that I have never seen him eat meat.

“Lingala, huh?”

Tim blushes, “I needed to keep focus. I was planning on the headset yet my mind kept wandering to you and me.”

I perk up at this, “Oh yeah? Oh yeah?”

He nods and I’m thrilled that the blush hasn’t faded. “I just kept thinking of your body, the way you touched me.” My breathing increases as I watch him get lost in memory. He shakes his head quickly as if to clear it, “Anyway I used the languages as way not to embarrass myself.”

I can’t fault him on that, I think I would rather be dressed down by Bridger than have to walk around a museum with a hard on. Leaning back in my chair I turn my attention back to my food and he does the same. I twirl my fork in my hand, suddenly I’m not hungry anymore...well at least not for food.

I want so badly to go home but I stuff the feeling down. We still have the rest of the day and the night. Besides when will be the next time we we get off that tin can?

With no set plan to “see” anything we wander around New Cape Quest. When the sun begins to dip and the buzzing lights begin to go on the streets fill. I scan the faces of the crowd by habit. In the distance I see a member of the SeaQuest but he’s clearly drunk. Besides there’s no law saying I can’t be with Tim on a street during shore leave. Yet I don’t want us to be seen. Tim is just now getting comfortable and I don’t want it ruined. The swell of people hide us and we turn the corner.

*****

“Oh I like that” he moans and I smile. I tighten my grip around his chest as my hips continue their rhythm. I’m careful not to increase my speed. I’m taking this slow and it’s driving Tim mad.

He says my name and it seems to consist of no vowels. Tim is making needy noises and I take pity on him. My hips begin to pound, his hands reach out in front of him trying to grab hold of something. I pull them towards his chest and cross my own arms over his to secure him. His cries are coming faster and I can feel the telltale stiffening of his body. The curve of where is shoulder meets his neck is within reach and gently bite down. With that we both are gone.  
******

In the morning I find the bed empty. I look at the clock and find it’s nearly eight. I swing back the covers and get up. The place is empty. 

_Where is he?_

_Don’t panic_ , doesn’t help.

_Think, think, think…_

My mind replays everything until I remember that it’s Sunday. I then towards the small table near the door and find my keycard missing. Seeing this fact has me collapsing into the couch, I find that my hands are shaking as I rake them through my hair. He hasn't left me. Blowing out a shaky breath I stand up and move the kitchen. I make coffee and wait.

A little bit before 10 the door opens and I see him wearing what can only be described as Sunday’s Best. Khaki pants from one of his uniforms mixed with a white and blue plaid button down shirt and dark blue sports jacket. I've never seen him this formal yet the plaid is all Tim.

“How was church?” I ask as I hand him a cup of coffee.

He blushes and tries to hide it with his cup, “Mass was good, the priest had an intriguing homily.”

“Intriguing?” I ask copying his tone.

“Well, there’s only so much you can do with the material.” He states rolling his eyes.

The fact that he seems to be mocking one of his most deeply held beliefs has me laughing. He slaps my shoulder and I laugh some more.


	4. Lenses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lostland and a slight nod to And Everything Nice

The WSKR’s are in my face, literally. I tell Ortiz to back off and he makes a joke bringing them closer. 

“I think you’re ready for my refresher course in survival training huh Ortiz?” I know it’s a dirty tactic but the flashing lights are annoying me. The WSKR backs off and I sigh. They’re telling me to come back to the ship so up I go.

Back onboard things are weird. I mean it’s not everyday you find a hand or a head. The captain is short with everyone including the doc which let me know something is up.

“We're going to lock this head and the hand in the hyperbaric chamber and black out the windows. This is now a classified event.” Bridger tells the doc her face scrunches up in confusion. 

He then directs his gaze towards me, “Take that sword and put it in the ward room. Post a guard. Don't let anyone in there without O'Neill's permission.”

“O'Neill?” I ask aghast I can’t believe he's been dragged into this. 

Luckily my tone has been taken for jealousy instead of protectiveness. 

“That a problem?” Bridger fires back. 

“No, sir.”

The captain’s behaviour is starting to creep me, later I see Ford go nuts and I know that I will have to make a hard decision. I seek out Tim to soothe my nerves unfortunately Miguel is with him.

“How much longer?” I ask impatiently.

Tim lets the cover of the book slam shut giving me some evidence of how frustrated he is, “ Well, I don't know. It's a lost alphabet, Jim. It's going to take some time.”

He used my name and I want to go over to him and take him my arms but I can’t. “McGath is arriving, and Ford and the Captain are exhibiting aberrant behavior.”

“The Captain just wants to protect this find from gold-diggers.” He tells me but I don’t think even he believes it. 

“Yeah, and Ford just spent 30 hours in the DSL. I mean, you were in it. Wouldn't 30 hours in that thing make you a little weird?” Ortiz jumps in. 

I shake my head, “No, this is beyond weird. I don't think either one of them is fit to command.”

Tim’s head shoot up, “That's a serious charge, Lieutenant.”

The fact that he used my rank and not my name lets me know he understands what a position I’m in and that this serious as it gets.

“I know.” I turn to leave but as I leave the wardroom I hang back just long enough to hear Tim declare, “Come on Deucalion, your penmanship sucks!”

I let myself smile at his declaration. The smile is short-lived. The rest of my day is like that Star Trek episode complete with a lunatic running around with a sword. I surveyed the damage in the ward room with the table smashed. Luckily Tim dove out the way.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask.

Tim hand raises in that signature way to lift his glasses and rub his eyes simultaneously letting me know he’s just as frustrated as I am. 

Myths, power hungry professors and psychic intervention. Yep, just another day on SeaQuest. I wonder what the Head Security Administrator at the UEO thinks of my reports? I’m lying on my bunk with Tim in my arms both still in our uniforms as he recounts his interaction with Ernst. 

“That man...I’ve never wanted to punch someone in the face more than that guy!”

I look down at him, his hair falling into his eyes. His glasses are safe on my bedside table. I run my fingers through his hair and let him talk. He goes on about Pittsburgh and strudel I just listen and take the comfort of being with him.

He falls asleep on me and I don’t bother to wake him. He’s been belittled by the UEO, barked at by a stuck-up intellect and spent hours poring over an ancient language...he has earned a break. As for me I’m still keyed up from everything. I reach out and pick up his glasses. My fingers run along the metal. Curiosity has be putting the lenses close to my own eyes. My vision blurs as look through them I wonder is the way I see things with them is how he sees the world without them? The lenses are round and large, standard issue from the UEO. I keep examining the glasses I feel as if I should since they are such a part of him.

**Two Weeks Later**

There’s a familiar bang on my hatch door I walk to it and let Tim in. He has a sad smile on his face. “I’ve been ordered on leave.”

“And that’s bad why?” I ask wanting to know what has him so bothered. 

He groans as he sits himself down on my bunk, “Basically I’m to be babysitter to Piccolo and Lucas. Dagwood is coming too but he’s the most mature of the two of them!”

I laugh at the mental picture. I've been subject to one of Tony's summons to get him out a jam with the UEO enforcement.

He looks up at me, “I want to be with you.”

While we have rules of how we behave onboard ship I know he needs reassurance. I sit beside him and draw him in for a kiss. I love how his breath hitches before our lips meet. We’ve kissed hundreds of times yet he still makes this sound as if he can’t believe that I chose him. I’m a lucky man. Eventually I stop and get up and move towards my desk. I pull open a drawer and hand him something. 

He looks down at the oval container. He opens it and genuine surprise lights up his face. After the incident with Deucalion I ordered him some prescription sunglasses. Gone are the large round lenses, in their place more stylish and updated glasses.

I watch as he takes them out examining the arms and the lenses, “Thank you.” he whispers.

I kiss him quick before telling him, “Have fun on leave.”

I get the call around 2:30 a.m. it’s from Tim. I can hear the slight tinge of panic in his voice. Lucas is gone. At first my mind conjures up a bar fight gone wrong but then he elaborates that Lucas is gone as in missing. It’s too early for a missing persons report with the police and besides Lucas is considered UEO personnel so it’s up to us to deal with it. Bridger wants to go to the docks and asks me to accompany him so I do. He finds O’Neill for a report and I hang back. “That was the last time we saw Lucas, Captain.” Tim shortens his strides to keep even with the Bridger his new glasses make him look more confident. “I mean, we spent the last two hours retracing our steps and scouring every club we got thrown out of.”

At this I internally laugh, talk about babysitting! I can just imagine the four of them: Lucas, Tony, Dagwood and Tim being ejected from clubs. No doubt due to Tony's loudness coupled with Lucas's know it all attitude. I'm sure Dagwood's imposing appearance and Tim's plaid shirts would kill any cool vibe in a club.

“It's not like him. He knows there's a curfew at 0200 hours.” The Captain informs.

Piccolo rushes over, “The cops don't have anything. Uh, the good news is no bodies matching Lucas' description showed up overnight.”

We don’t have time for our thoughts to run away for a taxi pulls up and out steps Lucas. I see Tim’s shoulders sag in relief.

Well at least it’s not mythical creatures making people lunatics this time it’s just ordinary decent hormones.


End file.
